


i climbed a tree (to see the world)

by cosmic strings (electrick)



Category: Halt and Catch Fire
Genre: F/M, Post Finale, is this happy? am i happy? who knows?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24991816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electrick/pseuds/cosmic%20strings
Summary: Eyes closed, he breathes deeply as he cradles the phone between his face and shoulder. He can almost make the sound of someone breathing past the static. It transports him back to a time where he spent every moment on the phone, hearing the same breathing. He wants to speak, to say something, anything but this is not his moment.
Relationships: Cameron Howe & Joe MacMillan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	i climbed a tree (to see the world)

**Author's Note:**

> good evening, i finished hacf today and had a breakdown while writing this and listening to Spiegel im Spiegel from the Inner Voice album. enjoy <3

The sound of silence permeates the room, the halls, and the building. The college has never been this silent in his years of teaching. Earlier in his life, he would have thought it unnerving, a cacophony of its own comprised of the static hum of the lights and the slow creep of stagnant air in the room.

It’s not anymore. 

He can sit with his silence. 

In fact, he’s been looking forward to it since the holiday break began. No more students, no more teaching assistants, and definitely no more drop in visits from colleagues needing a favor. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want them around, per se. More along the lines of needing to recalibrate, like a radio finding its frequency again playing from the same location. 

The dim yellow hues light his office and he opens the manilla folder containing essays for his assignment of the potential impact of the Telecommunications Act of 1996 on open access information. The first paper is always the most interesting, and then they become variations of each other when read in succession. 

The phone in his office rings, a shrilling noise that shakes him. 

One ring. And then another. 

Who could be calling him, at this hour, today of all days?

He holds the paper in his hand and diverts his gaze back to the words on the page, but they bleed together and the more his eyes run over the lines, the sharper the ring becomes. 

Finally he picks up the phone.

“Hello?” he answers coolly. 

He’s awarded the tinny sound of the connection and nothing more. 

Eyes closed, he breathes deeply as he cradles the phone between his face and shoulder. He can almost make the sound of someone breathing past the static. It transports him back to a time where he spent every moment on the phone, hearing the same breathing. He wants to speak, to say something, anything but this is not his moment. 

A sharp exhale releases from his lips. 

“So you’re teaching now,” her voice is as tough as ever. 

“Hello to you too,” he leans back on his chair. A smirk bleeds into his face and he catches the time on the clock hung above the door. 

“Happy new year,” the clock reads a few minutes past twelve and its proof that they made it into a new millennium. 

“The world didn’t collapse,” she comments. 

“So it seems.”

“I thought we weren’t going to go five months or five years without talking,” she speaks with a tilt in her voice. It’s passive aggressive, bordering on the edge of aggressive. 

“And yet you disappeared without a word,” there’s a sharp biting accusation but it rings true nonetheless. 

“You decided for both of us. I was respecting your decision,” it’s an excuse and Joe knows Cameron will see through it, just like she has every time before. 

“Are you done yet?” she cuts him off with her exasperated tone. 

“Done with what?” 

“Done punishing me,” her answer is quiet. The surrounding silence amplifies her, and she sounds so earnest, he isn’t sure if he imagines the mourning in her voice. 

He exhales and he gazes at the picture of her on his desk. There she stands hands folded across her chest, in front of the Air Stream and behind the glass. Far away from his reach. 

“You had made up your mind,” he begins.

“And after all that had happened, I think we both needed time. I wasn’t sure how much but I couldn’t stay there. Not without Gordon,” his voice falters but he doesn’t hide. That’s not who Joe is. 

“And you decided to teach?” she hedges around the past and into today. 

“Surely you know that seeing as you’re calling my office,” he walks to the sofa that has a view of the fireworks display. 

“You’re a hard man to track down,” he hears the chuckle at the end. 

“With the yellow pages being online and all,” he drawls. He has looked her up, of course he has. With all the information being at the his fingertips, how could he not? He knows about her project with Donna, the gifts she sends Haley (that fortunately is not found online), and the occasional mention of her when students ask him if he knows Cameron Howe, legendary video game auteur. 

“I take it you’re not celebrating New Year’s?” she questions presumably after hearing the muffled fireworks from his end. 

“That depends on your definition of celebrating.”

“You’re deep in the clutches of academia, aren’t you?” she laughs. 

“It’s good,” he resolves to speak his truth, “I’m happy here.”

“Really? That’s… that’s great, Joe.” 

Closing his eyes, he sees her face, accompanied with an eye roll that he knows is there. 

“You were great at reading people. Are. You are,” she stumbles with her words and her nervousness practically bleeds through the telephone fibers. 

A moment passes. He celebrates the silence, cementing this moment behind his closed eyes.


End file.
